“It is nice,” said Zeke, agreeing. “And it’s the fastest way to Farthingdale Ranch,” said Zeke with a quick glance at Cal.
“That’s the—” Cal paused to gather his thoughts. “Mr. Tate runs it, right? He’s in charge up here, and is starting the valley up for rich guests next summer.”
“All true,” said Zeke. He paused and then said, “He’s the kind of guy who gets things done. Kind of a juggernaut. Which was why when he asked me to move from the ranch to the valley I could hardly say no.” He seemed to laugh to himself, then turned to smile at Cal, a brief flicker of green eyes and a flash of white teeth in that tan face. “Here we are.”
Cal pulled his attention away from the warmth of that smile and made himself look out through the windshield. They were in another circular gravel parking lot, but this one had a flagpole and two buildings.
There was an older woman with a single silver-white braid over her shoulder standing in the shade of the porch. She was wearing blue jeans, cowboy boots, a thin cotton plaid shirt, and looked ready to go to work.
Cal and Zeke got out of the truck and went up the steps to join her in the quiet shade.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” she said, taking one of Cal’s hands in both of hers. “Callihan, right?”
“Cal,” said Zeke. “He likes to be called Cal.”
“And I’m Maddy, Cal,” she said, her smile slow and genuine. “Come in, let’s get you set up.”
“Hi,” said Cal, but he was talking to her back, with Zeke right on his heels, as if Zeke was afraid that Cal would make a run for it.
Cal knew he really needed to stop thinking that way. Nothing bad had happened so far. Maybe nothing would.
As he stepped inside the building, which was longer than it was wide, he realized this was the company store Zeke had mentioned.
T-shirts and hoodies emblazoned with what looked like the Farthingdale Ranch logo hung from racks. The walls were lined with boxes and there were display racks alongside the walls. At one end there was a long, glass-topped counter, behind which stood a smiling clerk, just waiting to wait on them.
Cal blinked, not sure what he was supposed to do next. Zeke had said something about cowboy boots and hats, but was Cal supposed to pick out his own? Or would Zeke pick those out for him?
“Here,” said Zeke. “Take a look at these. You can have any pair of cowboy boots in the store, but I like this brand. Ariats.”
Cal didn’t know anything about boots, cowboy or otherwise, but it was easy to see the leather was of good quality, and the pattern of swoops and turns was low-key but classy.
“Those are Slingshots,” said Zeke.
Cal looked up at him, confused, because maybe he’d missed part of the conversation somehow. But then Zeke smiled, slow and easy, and Cal’s shoulders relaxed.
“It’s just the type of Ariat,” he said. “I have the one called Benchmade, but I always thought the Slingshot was pretty.”
“What size are you, Cal?” asked Maddy.
“Nine and a half,” he said, as Zeke led him to a low bench. A bit dazed, he sat down and unlaced his new yellow suede boots, and took the box that Maddy handed him.
Normally, Cal wasn’t fussy about his footwear, or moved by leather, but as he opened the box, he sighed with pleasure.
“Nice, eh?” asked Zeke, and though Zeke was towering over him, Cal was beginning to realize that, quite simply, Zeke was tall and pretty much towered over everybody.
“Yeah,” said Cal. “I don’t have enough money, though.”
“No.” Zeke reached into the box and pulled out the top boot, and ran his fingers along the design. “The valley supplies each parolee with anything they need. These boots are included in that. The cowboy hat, too. Say, Maddy, why don’t you pick out a few hats for Cal, here.”
“Sure thing, Zeke,” she said. “I’ve got his size from the intake form.”
All of this, then, was part of the promise Mr. Tate had made to Cal during their interview on Zoom. Hard work, good food, plenty of sunshine. Free clothes and gear and supplies. A certificate of completion at the end of the season.
Everything had sounded so good that Cal had outright lied that he knew his way around horses. That he knew how to ride.
Picking out a pair of cowboy boots would be one step closer to solidifying the lie, by which time it would be rock solid and so so so hard to get out of. But as Zeke pulled the other boot out ofthe box and placed both in front of Cal on the floor, Cal knew he could not resist those boots.
And, as he slid them on and stood up, he sighed again. His legs felt a mile long and strong as iron.
